I'd also suggest that if she yearns for the quiet life then she might want to consider turning down invites to go on chat-shows looking like a burst tractor inner-tube, talking about her 'trisexual' crossdressing lover and making desperate TV series where she trots her kids sounds excited out for the cameras in their home.

(Is the idea of “a trisexual alien who masterbates to Klingon music while it tosses itself into a volcano” any more ludicrous than, say, the concept of “an all-powerful, omnipotent humanoid being, capable of doing pretty much anything it desires, simply by waving a hand or just willing something to happen, from some point in the sky above us, that we just can never see for some reason”?)

This weekend while I was wheelsucking a trisexual I came a state of zen while listening to his time trial bike's cacophony of loose and rusty parts - An epiphany induced by the telegraph-like tapping of his headset - the more bike boutiques the better.

Is the idea of “a trisexual alien who masterbates to Klingon music while it tosses itself into a volcano” any more ludicrous than, say, the concept of “an all-powerful, omnipotent humanoid being, capable of doing pretty much anything it desires, simply by waving a hand or just willing something to happen, from some point in the sky above us, that we just can never see for some reason”?